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Home Sweet Meth Lab

Now that I’ve got house-hunting on the brain, oddities that would have

otherwise escaped my notice now present themselves to me. Case in

point: consider the little Seattle “fixer-upper” pictured below,

asking price almost US$250K (CAD$304,194 at today’s exchange rate):

If this place is going for $250K, I live in Trump Tower.

The listing starts off on a none-too-promising note:

Designated Landmark property subj. to Landmark Brd Controls/Regs. Also, Former Meth Lab

site w/ Cert. clean-up done. Unique roof design makes this a property

that MUST be preserved. Needs Ttl Rehab/Restoratn from foundation up –

perfect philanthropist developer proj. Much effort could bring this

house, sited on qtr acre & flanked by six new homes, back to its

orig. charm and luster. Shown by Appt. Only. No functioning systems or

heat src. Bsmt has laundry room and bal. Unfind. Closg subj to Short

Plat.

I like how they broach the “Meth Lab” topic, starting with

“Also”, the way one makes a casual aside. I also love the line “perfect

philanthropist developer proj.” which must be real estate-speak for “a

total dump”. The only better way it could be spun would be to say “Hey

— if you’re looking for a place to shoot the sequel for Requiem for a Dream, this is it!”

I can just imagine the plight of whoever buys this house. Imagine how

many visits from out-of-town bikers they’ll have: “Hey bro, before we

go to the Seattle Hells Angels convention, let’s pass by Smitty’s place

— I tweaked pretty good on this really choice crank he sold me five

years ago!”

Click here to see a screen capture of the online listing for the house.

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US INSTITUTION FOR SALE – EXCELLENT CONDITION – L@@K

Photo: Woman lighting a cigar with a burning US Social Security card.

This could be you!


Marketplace as protest venue: rather than follow Messrs. Bush’s and Cheney’s slow, inefficient route, Billionaires for Bush have simply decided to put the US’ Social Security up for sale on eBay.

I’m beginning to get the feeling that when they say “ownership society”, they mean “owned” in the hacker/videogamer sense of the word.

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The Only Two Cents I Have to Spare on the Debate

I have received a couple of emails asking me to contribute my two cents to the “white maledebate about the blogosphere. Since I’m a little tied up doing actual work, I shall simply direct you to this entry about BloggerCon 1.

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"Do You Have a Kiss for Daddy?"

My old friends from Crazy Go Nuts University, Ashley Bristowe and Chris “Turner” Turner, have a name for their baby inspired by the Greatest Movie of All Time (Ferris Bueller’s Day Off): Sloane.

Her full name is Sloane Lantau Bristowe Turner. “Lantau” is derived from the island on which Hong Kong’s International Airport is located. The reasoning is explained in their post. “So that’s how it’s done in their family,” as Principal Rooney would say.

(Luckily, they did not name her after the actual airport itself, which bears the funny-in-the-Beavis-and-Butthead-sense name of Chek Lap Kok.)

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It Happened to Me Toronto (a.k.a. Accordion City)

Bike

Photo: My bike, the Scorpion King (a Trek Cruiser).

Pictured above is my primary means of getting about Accordion City, the

Scorpion King. For getting to and from work as well as travel within

the core of Accordion City that doesn’t require me to carry large

parcels, a bicycle is by far the most cost- and time-efficient means of

getting around. It’s also non-polluting and a good way to burn off some

excess calories.

I suppose I could ride one of those “city bikes” or “urban hybrids”

that everyone seems to go for these days. They’re essentially

mountain-bike-ish designs tweaked for city use, and were I the sort of

person trying to shave seconds off my trips, I’d probably get one.

However, there’s a certain charm to the old 1950’s style “cruisers”

that other bikes lack, and having fenders and a chain guard allows me

to dress nicely and bike at the same time. I’m not a stickler for

authencity; I prefer cruisers with hand brakes and gears over the

no-gear versions with coaster brakes that serious cruiser aficionados

go for.


While my bike is my means of transporting myself to and from my

workplace, for some, it is their workplace. Frank Duff is one person

who works on his bike. In September 2003 — roughly around the time I

left independent contract work to accept a full-time job at Tucows —

Duff left the world of programming to become a full-time bike courier:

There are a

number of reasons why the courier life was particularly attractive to

this budding young programmer. Part of it was of course standard Office

Space fantasy. But there was more. Gibson and Stephenson had taught me

that the messenger, the mailman, was a vital romantic figure. The

soldier of the information age.

And I won’t

pretend that I was blind to the fact that, in this urban world, the

devil-may-care deliverator is something of a sex symbol.

And besides, I liked to ride. I loved it.

In A Coder in Courierland,

Duff writes about why he chose to leave the “in the mind” world of

computer programming and go into the “in the body” world of the bike

couriers.

My street musician hobby has given me insights into Accordion City and

the people on its streets that otherwise would’ve escaped my notice. Duff seems to have had the same experience as a courier:

And

couriering will teach you to know your city in ways you never imagined.

I have always loved Toronto, but if you will forgive the metaphor, I

feel that my relationship has transitioned from that of a secret

admirer to that of a lover. I can call up at will the most intimate

details of the financial core and of various tendrils extending

therefrom.

You will

develop a camaraderie with the other peoples of the street. You will

find yourself exchanging knowing nods with hot dog vendors and buskers.

Even mailmen and FedEx drivers (with whom couriers share a mutual

conviction that each’s job is superior to the other’s) become your

brothers and sisters of sorts.

He’s also discovered the power of street cred:

And yes, if you have even the slightest bit of charm, you will have plenty of opportunity to pick up hot receptionists.

Being a bike courier isn’t a job for everyone. It’s

hazardous work; there are a lot of car drivers out there who think that

bikes don’t belong on the road and many more who just have no idea how

to share the road with cyclists. It can be unpleasant biking all day

when it’s 20 degrees below freezing. It also doesn’t pay terribly well.

He says that it worked out to CAD$7.00 an hour when he started out; I

made more than that selling sno-cones in high school, and that was in

1985 dollars. This must’ve been a drastic change from the paycheque he

was collecting as a programmer.

In spite of all the drawbacks, I must credit Duff with taking a chance

and seeing if he was really doing what he wanted to do. I’ve always

said that if you’re going to spend half your waking life doing

something, it shouldn’t be something you hate or dread.

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Charlie’s Realtors

Speaking of house-hunting, here’s an amusing real estate ad I’ve been saving for just such an occasion:

Photo: Realtor ad with agents striking a 'Charlie's Angels' pose.

Categories
It Happened to Me Toronto (a.k.a. Accordion City)

Slouching Towards Yuppiedom

If my life were a Winnie the Pooh

book (the A.A. Milne version, not the Disney version), the subtitle for

the current chapter would be “In Which the Accordion Guy and the

Redhead Search for a House”.

Unfortunately, Sunday open houses all take place at the same time —

between 2 and 4 in the afternoon. That limits the number of places we

can see today, so I’m taking Wendy on a walking tour of some

neighbourhoods to give her a better “feel” for them, which should be

helpful since she’s not from around here.

See you folks at Kickass Karaoke later tonight!